A Haunting in Central City
by paganpunk2
Summary: Dick's trick-or-treating trip to Central City goes from sweet to spooky when a group of bullies force he and Wally to brave a supposedly haunted house. K for language. Part of the Spark in the Dark series.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Here is the first chapter of the Dick and Wally Halloween adventure I promised. I will try to have the whole thing up no later than Friday. I will also post Iris' pumpkin-chocolate-chip cookie recipe on my blog tomorrow so that anyone who wants to can try them out in time for the holiday. Don't worry; there will be more 'Silent Treatment' tomorrow, as well. Happy Halloween, and happy reading!**

* * *

><p>"Duuuude!"<p>

Dick grinned at the exclamation that greeted his arrival in Flash's secret workroom. "Hey, bro!" he answered, bouncing out of the Zeta tube and towards a gape-mouthed Wally. "Nice costume," he added sincerely.

"I should be saying that to _you_!" The redhead reached out to touch a spiky gauntlet. "Is this stuff legit?!"

"Nah," he shook his head. "Real armor would have been way too heavy, even in my size. But Alfred's awesome with a 3D-printer, so it looks right even though it's just plastic."

"Daaang..."

"Your outfit is very convincing as well, Mister West," the butler complimented as he drew up to them. "I would almost swear that some dastardly fiend had gotten hold of – oh, a shrink-ray, I suppose – and directed it at your mentors."

"You're telling me," Barry chuckled from his seat at a nearby workbench. "When I saw him in the complete get-up for the first time earlier I thought I was losing my mind."

"You should have seen his face," Wally snickered. "It was awesome." His eyes widened. "What did Bruce say about yours? Was he, like, totally freaked out?"

Dick felt his smile fall slightly. "...He hasn't seen it," he revealed. "Uncle Clark came by with a mission last night, and the whole thing wasn't ready until this afternoon, so..."

"Oh," his friend groaned, commiserating. "Bummer, man."

"Yeah..." It was, he thought, the only hitch in the whole Halloween plan that they had worked out weeks earlier. Their scheming had been launched by a comment he had made about not having particularly enjoyed the previous year's candyfest. While missing his parents on that first All-Hallows since their murder had certainly been part of the problem, being semi-famous had almost been worse. For some reason the paparazzi, who had backed off somewhat as his first summer at the manor waned, had been swarming that night. Cameras had gone off at almost every door despite Bruce's angry glares, and more than one person had shoved their sugary offering out through the mail slot rather than risk showing up in the next day's tabloids. They'd switched neighborhoods twice, but not even Alfred's expert driving had been sufficient to shake all of their gossip-hungry tails. It had been a short night, and even though he'd known it wasn't his fault Dick had gone to bed feeling like he'd wasted both of his caretakers' time with the ordeal.

Upon hearing the story, Wally had loudly proclaimed that this year he would make sure his best friend saw what a _real_ Halloween was like. The plan had started out as a simple invitation to trick-or-treat in Central City, where Dick could move about incognito so long as his famous guardian wasn't trailing along behind him. Barry said he was happy to play host, and Bruce had knocked everyone's socks off by only protesting mildly before he agreed to stay home. It was a sign of the importance he placed on giving his son as normal a civilian childhood as possible that he'd balked but slightly at the boys' second proposal, which involved them dressing up as their respective mentors for the evening's adventure. In the end he'd allowed that too, making his only stipulation that they not go out unattended.

It was this requirement that Alfred mentioned now. "Will you or Mrs. Allen be taking the boys out tonight?" he asked Barry.

"It's me. I'd rather chauffeur than fawn over every ghost and goblin that comes to the door, you know?"

"Certainly. Well, Master Dick," the butler turned to him, "I trust that you'll behave yourself this evening?"

A bit confused, Dick blinked up at him. "Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm sure I don't know, young sir. Suffice it to say that it is very easy to get carried away when there are costumes, candy, and other children around. But if you're sure..."

Dick frowned up at Alfred's serious expression, still uncertain as to why he was having to double-promise to be good. Then he caught sight of the jesting twinkle in the Englishman's gaze, and smiled. Alfred was teasing, that was all; it was just such an uncommon event that it had taken him a minute to realize. "I'm sure," he giggled.

"Very good. Then I will see you in the morning."

"Okay. See you in the morning!"

"Thank you again, Mister Allen. Good night." And with that Alfred stepped back into the tube, entered the Batcave's coordinates, and vanished.

"You're welcome," Barry got out just as the transporter's light flared. "...Damn, he's quick. I guess now I know where Bruce got his disappearing act from."

"Alfred's sneaky like that," Dick remarked. "So...when do we start trick-or-treating?"

"Yeah," Wally jumped in eagerly. "Can we go now? Please? It's after six; we should start now, before all of the good candy is gone!"

"Whoa, hold your horses there, kids." Barry raised one hand, and both boys stilled as if they'd seen his sign while on patrol. "We've got to check in with Iris first. You know how women are about having half a dozen last minute things they need you to do on nights like this."

Dick looked at Wally, who looked back at him. Equally unfamiliar with what the elder speedster was talking about, they shrugged at one another, then at the man.

"...No?" He wrinkled his nose and looked wistful. "Well, you'll find out soon enough, I guess. Tell you what, you go put your sleepover stuff in Wally's room, Dick, and then both of you meet me in the kitchen. If Iris _does_ have a list, we'll get it done a lot faster with three sets of hands than one."

The boys took off out of the room, ran up two flights of stairs, and bolted down the second-floor hallway to the door at the very end. Dick was dropping his backpack beside the closet when Wally spoke haltingly. "Um...you don't mind sleeping on the floor again tonight, do you?"

Straightening up, Dick felt a mild flash of annoyance. "Bro," he sighed as he turned to face his friend, "how many times do I have to tell you I don't care what size your room is?"

Wally ducked his head, blushing. "I know, but..."

"You could live in a cardboard box and you'd still be my friend. Well...that wouldn't happen, because I'd totally bring you to live with me before I'd let you live in a crummy old box, but still...whatever, okay? Besides, your room is awesome." For all that the space was barely eight feet by ten, its clever layout made it feel bigger. Dick adored his own bedroom, but he had to admit that he was jealous of Wally's lofted bed, which let the older boy sleep directly under the glow-in-the-dark stars pasted to the ceiling. The shadowy desk area underneath the mattress reminded him of a cave – although Bruce and Alfred would both have cows if the Batcave was ever as messy as the redhead's homework station was – and everything else about the chamber was just so _Wally_ that he couldn't imagine not liking it. "Think about who you're talking to here," he went on. "Remember the trailer we saw in that movie a couple months ago? The one I said was like where I used to live?"

Wally's head shot up. "Well _yeah,_ but I don't care about-" He broke off, the flush in his cheeks growing brighter as he realized that he had been about to repeat his friend's own sentiments. "...I'm being a dork, aren't I?"

"Totally," Dick nodded. "But that's okay. I forgive you."

"Good." They shared a smile. "...Aunt Iris said she was going to make cookies. You want to go see if she'll let us have one before we go out?"

"Yeah!"

They thundered down to the ground floor, where Barry stood waiting with his hands behind his back. "Ready?" he asked.

Wally faltered. "...We were going to see about cookies first."

"I've got the update on that. Your aunt just pulled a fresh batch out, and she's in a big hurry to get the last one in before the doorbell starts ringing. I don't advise going into the war zone unless you want wrangled into oven duty. But..." He brought his hands forward and held out a pair of napkin-wrapped circles. "...I managed to not eat these two. If you hurry, you can get rid of them before I decide I can't hold back any longer."

"Sweet!" In an instant, Wally's cookie was gone. "So good..."

"Thanks, Barry! Mm..." Dick made an appreciative sound as the flavors of pumpkin and chocolate rolled over his tongue. "These are amazing. I don't think I've ever had cookies like these before."

"Yeah? Well, you can tell her all about it later. Maybe she'll give you the recipe for Alfred. Right now, though-" The doorbell rang without warning. The sound of something clattering came from the other side of the kitchen door, followed by a muttered curse. Barry winced. "Right now let's sneak out the back," he whispered, jerking his thumb towards the short corridor that led to the rear of the house. "It's safer that way."

They tiptoed into the backyard without speaking. In a minute they were slipping past the front door, where a smiling but weary-looking Iris was busy doling out treats to a flock of miniature princesses and pirates. Once they were ensconced in the car, they exchanged nervous grins. "We escaped!" Wally said dramatically.

"Slipped right under the old witch's nose!" Barry joked. "…Don't tell her I called her that. She won't see the humor until the knocking stops."

"We won't," the boys chorused from the backseat.

As they made their way through the slow-moving suburban Halloween traffic towards another subdivision, Wally explained the situation. Last year, he said, they'd trick-or-treated close to home; since he was dressed as Flash this time around, though, they'd deemed it smarter to go someplace where Barry wasn't known to all the neighbors. The odds of anyone putting two and two together would be relatively slim anyway, but in the interest of security they were taking the extra step. "Besides," he added as they pulled up to the curb at the beginning of a long, winding street full of Victorian structures, "I heard at school that the houses down here give out, like, full-size bars. It's worth the drive to hit up a rich street, you know?"

"Sure," Dick agreed. He didn't know, but it didn't matter; his excitement was already higher than it had been the year before, when they'd been followed almost from the gate of the manor. Here he would be anonymous, he thought as he stared out at the groups of masked children and their attendant adults. Here he could be himself without worrying about how good or bad he was making Bruce look. Here, he smiled broadly as a lawn decoration came to life and made a little girl squeal in delighted terror, he could have some serious fun.

Fifteen minutes later, Halloween was in position to edge out Christmas as his favorite holiday. "That was the _best_!" he opined joyfully as they ran back down the sidewalk to where Barry was waiting in the car. The last door they'd knocked on had swung open to reveal an abandoned and cobweb-covered entryway. Only when they'd called out a cautious hello had someone dressed as a werewolf leaped from the thick bushes beside them, making them both jump back in fright. Although he'd barely kept himself from punching the innocent homeowner, the king-sized chocolate bars they'd received for their daring had made the scare completely worth it.

"Hish teef looked tho realithtic!" Wally agreed around something he'd fished from his candy bucket.

"And the fur on his hands, too!"

The redhead swallowed. "Nah, I think that part might have been real."

"…What, like he's just that hairy normally?"

"Yup."

"Grooooooss…"

"That street was _awesome_!" Wally informed their chaperone as they tumbled back into their seats. "What's next?"

"…Shut the door, buddy. We need to talk for a second."

There was a pensive note in the man's voice that Dick sensed meant there was going to be a premature end to their fun. Wally's expression suggested that he was thinking the same thing. "What's up, Uncle Barry?" he asked as he closed the door.

"Ah…" Barry craned around to give them an apologetic look. "I made the mistake of turning on the radio while I was waiting. There's a hostage situation downtown. They didn't _say_ they were waiting for anyone in particular to show up and fix it, but…"

"But you've got to go." Wally slumped against his seat. "Well…we could come with you!" he suggested, sitting up again.

"I don't have my costume," Dick reminded him morosely. He'd been having so much fun, and now…well, it couldn't be helped. It was far more important that Flash save the hostages than that he drive them around to get free candy. Still, though, he was never going to get a real Halloween at this rate.

"And even if you did, Bruce would kill me if I took you into a shooting situation without his permission," Barry added, grimacing. "…Sorry, boys."

"Wait," Wally said slowly. His forehead crinkled as he searched for a solution. "…Would he kill you _less_ if you let us trick or treat by ourselves while you deal with the bad guys?"

"Uhh…" He looked torn. "_I'm_ fine with that, but…"

His eyes traveled to Dick, who sighed. "But Bruce," he murmured.

"Right. But Bruce."

"But Bruce doesn't have to know," Wally pressed. "I mean, he's off on a…a thing, right?"

"A business trip," Dick, used to using code to talk about night work in civilian settings, supplied.

"Yeah! A business trip! So how's he gonna know? It won't take you more than a couple of hours to go and come back, right Uncle Barry?"

"True…and if I park the car a few blocks away and sneak into the house to get changed, Iris might not even realize…" Barry held his nephew's hopeful gaze for a long moment, then looked at Dick once more. "What do you think? Will Bruce ever talk to me again if he _does_ find out that I ignored the one thing he asked me to do tonight?"

"Umm…" He considered the question for a long moment, chewing on his lip as he reviewed the facts. On the one hand, his guardian had been adamant that he stay in sight of an adult at all times that he was outside of the house tonight. On the other hand, the billionaire had obviously felt bad about the way last year's trick-or-treating had gone, and was trying to make up for it by letting him spend Halloween hundreds of miles from home and under a kid-sized cowl. Surely Bruce wouldn't want him to miss out on another Halloween just because some jerk picked October 31st to go nutso on...

"I don't know if we can keep it a secret for long," he confessed finally. "Mostly because...well, because I'm really bad at lying to him. But I think that so long as nothing goes wrong while we're out he'll be more glad that I had a good time than mad that you had to go take care of an unexpected problem without us."

Barry arched an eyebrow. "Are you _sure_?" he verified solemnly. "I mean, you know how he is, especially when it comes to your safety. I'm willing to push the envelope, but I don't want to end up paper-cut because I went too far."

Dick gnawed on his lip for another second. If Bruce _was_ upset later, it was nothing that a few days of cuddling and begging him to please, _please_ forgive Barry wouldn't fix. Part of him quailed at the thought of being so manipulative, but the greater part of his heart was just excited to experience a real Halloween with his best friend. Beside, so long as nothing bad happened – and why should it, in a sleepy city like Central? – there would hardly even be anything for Bruce to get mad about. "…I think it'll be okay," he ruled.

Barry hesitated. "Hmm…"

"Pleeeease?" a second young voice chimed in. "Don't leave us at home with Aunt Iris during trick-or-treat time, she'll make us help her answer the door or something lame like that!"

"Well, when you put it that way…all right," the man gave in.

"Yes!" Wally raised his fist, and Dick duly tapped it with his own. "Best Halloween ever!"

"Hey, now, there are rules you have to follow if we're going to do this," Barry curbed their bubbling ecstasy. "Listen close for a minute. I mean it, Kid…"

Ten minutes later they were waving goodbye to the vehicle that had deposited them in a neat and well-lit middle class area. "On our own, bro," the redhead beamed. "Let's do this!"

"All right!"

They'd been told not to go more than three blocks in any direction from their drop-off point and to be back where they'd started by nine. Seeing no point in wasting time, they began their assault at a jog. They paused only to top off their energy with tidbits from their buckets, and three dozen homes had paid them for knocking before Wally slowed to a stop.

Dick halted, too. "What's up?" he asked.

"This way's getting kind of lame, don't you think?" The older boy waved an arm to indicate the lots ahead of them. "Look. Everything's spaced out more, and nobody else is down here. I'll bet the candy's really lame if it's so quiet. We can hit way more places if we go back and start on the other side."

He had a point, but something caught Dick's eye as he peered past the glow of the streetlights. "What about that last house, though? The one way down there? It's pretty big; maybe they're giving out really good stuff like on the first street we went to." If no one else was on the block, he plotted, maybe they could even get doubles.

"It doesn't have any lights on, I don't think. Besides, it's more than three blocks from where we got dropped. We'd have to cross another street to get to it."

He looked closer. "…Oh. You're right." Shrugging, he turned around. "Okay. Let's go back."

"Cool."

"Hey, Pest!" an unknown voice rang out.

"...What was that?"

"Oh, crap," Wally groaned beside him. "Not tonight…"

He frowned. "What's wrong, Wals?"

"Oh Pe-est...!" the new tone sing-songed.

Five boys, none much older than Wally but all nearly twice his breadth, swaggered out from behind a tall fence. Dick's eyes narrowed under his faux-cowl. He didn't know any of the people in the approaching group, but their attitude was unpleasant and he had the awful feeling that 'Pest' was a mean play on Wally's last name. "…Are they bullies?" he let out of the corner of his mouth.

"Um…yeah. I go to school with them. They kind of hate my guts."

"They sound like jerks. Let's just keep walking and ignore them."

Wally shook his head slightly. "It won't work. They'll chase us, and I can't…you know. I can't just _go._ Not like this. Not out here."

Dick scrambled for an answer as the gang stomped closer and closer. If they could just get out of sight long enough for him to hop on Wally's back, then maybe…

But it was too late. A quintet of smug faces surrounded them, all wearing dangerous grins. "Hey, Pest," the apparent leader of the pack sneered. "Cute costume." His cronies snorted with mirth. "Who's this?" he went on, jerking his chin towards Dick. "Your boyfriend?" The laughter grew.

"…No," Wally ground out. "He's my friend. My best friend."

Dick had had plenty of his own experiences with bullying in the year and a half since he'd been in Gotham, and with all but two people he'd found that keeping his mouth shut generally cooled his opponents' interest. Listening to these strangers now, though, he discovered that it was much harder to roll with the verbal punches when they were aimed at his partner in crime. "What's your problem, guy?" he challenged, crossing his arms. "We didn't do anything to you. Why don't you just leave us alone?"

"Oh-ho, it can talk! Tell me, runt, are you _actually_ Pest here's friend? Did he hire you to hang out with him tonight or something? Cause I don't recognize you. Although to be fair you're so short that I probably just can't see you under all the normal-sized people at school, huh?" Reaching out, he nudged Dick's shoulder roughly. "...Puniest Batman _ever_. No wonder you think Pest's scrawny ass can protect you."

Dick felt a little hitch of anger at that, but he let it go. Their focus seemed to have shifted onto him, and that was okay. It didn't matter if they made fun of him, because he never had to see them again after tonight. So long as they left Wally alone, he didn't care what they said.

But the speedster had had enough. "…What are you even _doing_ here, Brent?!" he spat. "You don't live anywhere near here and none of you are in costumes, so what…what the hell, man?!"

"Oooh, better not let mommy hear you use words like that. Oh wait, she wouldn't hear, would she, because she dumped you here when she realized what a _pest_ you are!"

Dick bit his tongue so hard that he tasted blood. If he let go now, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop; they'd end up in a fight, and the only way he and Wally would win was if they let themselves act like Robin and Kid Flash. That was out of the question, and so was getting beat up. "Chill, Wals," he breathed as the speedster began to scuff his feet back and forth, unconsciously preparing to throw himself at the aggressors. "Just chill. No trouble, remember?"

"No trouble?" The one called Brent leaned in. "You don't want any trouble, is that it, runt?"

"Yeah," Dick nodded, keeping his voice firm. There was a silky note that he didn't trust underlining the tall figure's words, but he had to at least _try_ and reach a peaceful accord. "That's right."

"…Huh. Well, maybe it's because I get bored beating up little babies" – another round of guffaws sounded – "but…I might be able to let you two go tonight. _If_," he stressed, "you earn it."

Wally looked up skeptically. "Earn it?" he repeated.

"Yeah. Earn it."

"Doing what?" Dick asked slowly, certain that he wasn't going to like the answer.

A beefy arm extended above their heads. The circle of boys broke open to frame the dark, distant structure that lay just outside the three-block radius that Barry had restricted them to. "If you go in there," Brent intoned, "and stay for one hour, we'll only take half your candy and we won't beat you up."

"Um…that's somebody's _house_," Dick rebutted. "That would be breaking and entering. We're _not_ going to commit a crime for you."

"It's not anybody's house, runt. It's abandoned, boarded up. No one's lived there for years." His voice dropped respectfully. "...It's supposed to be haunted."

"Yeah," one of his wingmen agreed.

"Bad haunted," another contributed woefully.

Wally nudged Dick secretly. Their gazes met and transferred silent disdain for anyone who believed in haunted houses. "…What do you think, bro?"

"I think it's outside our boundaries," he answered. "But I also think it's better than getting beat up."

Brent leered. "So…you gonna do it?"

Dick smirked, but he let Wally speak. "Yeah," the redhead said confidently. "We'll do it."

"...You're _sure_? You can't back out once you start, Pest, and if you do, we'll hurt you for real."

It was a real threat, but that only emboldened Dick further. All thoughts of what Bruce, Alfred, and Barry would think if they were caught breaking into an abandoned house outside of the boundaries they weren't even supposed to have disappeared under a flood of determination. Jutting his chin out and meeting Brent's suddenly careful gaze, he spoke a challenge of his own.

"...Bring it on."


	2. Chapter 2

"...Well, it _looks_ abandoned," Wally whispered as they crept across the house's overgrown front lawn a few minutes later. The building's weathered siding, half-latched window shutters, and faded 'keep out!' sign all supported his statement. "I can't believe I hadn't heard about this place before."

"_I_ can't believe we're going to break into it," Dick murmured back. The brave attitude he'd evinced in front of Brent and his gang was slipping now that they were out of earshot. It wasn't the prospect of being stalked by the dead that bothered him, but rather the thought of being caught by the living. Knowingly disobeying the law was something that had never crossed his mind before; as it was, he still struggled on occasion with the less-than-strictly-legal things that he did with Batman in the pursuit of justice. Consequently, he wasn't entirely comfortable with what they were about to do. "...If we get busted-"

"I know," Wally grimaced. He glanced back over his shoulder. "But we don't really have a choice."

They didn't. The bigger boys had escorted them up to the sidewalk in front of their destination, leaving them no opportunity to get out of sight and dash away. Once they'd arrived Brent had taken their candy containers – for 'safe keeping', he'd claimed – and then instructed his crew to fan out around the lot and keep watch. They were encircled, bound to go inside and wait out sixty minutes lest they betray their secret identities in their efforts to run.

Even if they could have gotten away without risking their masks, Dick wouldn't have gone. If they fled now, Wally would have hell to pay on both of their accounts when he returned to school on Monday morning. As little as he wanted to trespass on a stranger's property, he couldn't doom his friend to facing with Brent's wrath all by himself. No, they would face whatever came together; that was what bros were for, after all.

They approached a low cellar door, which one of the gang had said was already broken open. Sure enough, there was a gap in the boards that was more than wide enough for them to slither through. Stepping up to it, they paused. "...You ready for this?" Wally asked unsteadily.

"I...I guess so." A beat passed. "...Let's go. Brent said the time won't start until we're inside, and we're already going to have to run to meet Barry."

"Craaap...okay. Let's do it."

Dick slipped through the opening first, holding his cape securely to keep it from catching on anything. Wally came in behind him, and they immediately moved to stand back-to-back in the small ray of ambient light that slanted down from the outside world. The only other source of illumination they had were the glow sticks their guardians had hung around their necks for safety purposes. "Good thing we have these, huh?" Dick asked, playing nervously with his and wishing desperately that he had his _real_ utility belt on. If he had his flashlight or his headlamp, he thought, maybe the blackness wouldn't look quite so impenetrable.

"Yeah. This would be...um...bad, otherwise."

"...Hey, Wals?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Are...are you afraid of the dark?"

"Not _normally_, but...kind of right now. You?"

"I...it used to be worse, but this is...this is _really_ dark." He could sense that there was a lot of space outside of their reduced field of vision, and he wasn't happy about it. "Maybe...maybe it's brighter upstairs?" he suggested. "Like some light could be getting through the shutters, you know?"

"Yeah, but..." Dick heard the redhead gulp. "Look, I know we kind of made fun of them out there before, and...I mean, don't think I'm being dumb or something, but...do you, ah...do you believe in ghosts?"

He frowned, momentarily distracted by the question. Surrounded as he was by science and provable fact in his everyday life, the only ghosts he ever heard about were those in stories that he knew to be fictional. They weren't to be taken seriously, or so Alfred and Bruce both said, so he never had. "No," he answered. "I don't think so, at least."

"It's just...well, Brent seemed like maybe _he_ did, you know? And I know he's a big, dumb idiot, but...I don't know _any_ of the stories about this place. I'd never heard of it before tonight. What...what if it _is_ haunted? What if there are ghosts or something? Uncle Barry would probably think I'm an idiot if he could hear me right now, but I was just thinking...well, what if they exist, and we just don't have the science to prove it? We didn't used to know about atoms and elements and stuff, but that didn't mean they weren't _there_, you know? We just weren't advanced enough to put it all together."

Nervous curiosity washed over Dick. "Yeah..." Something in the back of his mind was borrowing a phrase of Uncle Clark's and insisting that this was all hogwash, but no matter how much he wanted to believe that he couldn't pinpoint why exactly it should be the case. Wally had a point; there were plenty of things that had once seemed impossible or non-existent that were now part of everyday life in the League, if not in the wider world. After all, no less than Bruce himself had once admitted that he hadn't believed that reliable interplanetary teleportation was possible until he'd seen it for himself. If the billionaire's knowledge of what was and wasn't possible could be changed through the introduction of new science, then Dick didn't figure he had any right to think that the same thing couldn't happen to him.

He didn't dare stand in the cellar for the next hour debating the issue, though, if for no other reason than that the darkness would become too frightening. While he suspected that his fake cowl was helping him withstand the shadows, it was nowhere near as great of a confidence booster as his actual mask would have been. "...I don't know, Wals. Let's...let's just keep going and be careful, okay?"

"...Okay. But we're gonna stick together, right?"

"Of course."

They crept through the dark with their elbows brushing and their lights held at arm's length. Halfway across the room, something rustled just out of sight. They paused.

"What was that?" Wally asked tightly.

"I don't know...it sounded like a mouse, but..."

But it was making too much noise for such a small thing. It occurred to Dick that any animal could be hiding in a quiet place like this – snakes, a stray dog, an escaped zoo lion. Did Central City have a zoo? He couldn't remember. All he knew was that anything could be hiding in shadows like these, and they'd never see it coming. Worse still, whatever was down here with them was getting louder and closer with each passing second. "Don't move," he warned as Wally craned his neck to see. "Maybe it will just go away..."

They both let out low cries of mingled fear and disgust as the creature came into view. Its sleek, fat body shone in the light as it scampered by, its whiskers twitching and its long toes scraping and tapping their way through the debris littering the floor. "A rat," Wally spat. "Freaking gross, man. I hate those things."

They weren't Dick's favorite either, but he found a silver lining for the bad taste in his mouth. "At least it wasn't a Gotham Gray."

"...A Gotham Gray?"

"Yeah. I just read the file on them the other day. They're these super huge rats that this guy back home bred a ton of a few years ago. He wasn't evil or anything," he added, "he just liked big rats. Anyway, I guess he treated them like his pets. He let them sleep with him and everything. But he ended up losing his job, and then he couldn't afford to feed them anymore. He tried letting them go so that they could fend for themselves, I guess, but they kept coming back to him looking for food. Eventually...um..." He trailed off, realizing too late that the end of the story wasn't something he wanted to think about while he was trapped in an abandoned house with a rodent infestation.

"Eventually _what_?" Wally pressed. "You can't stop there! Between being in this place and listening to your story I'm about to die of nervous anticipation! What happened?!"

"It's...well...they ate him," he said apologetically. "Batman only got called in because after they finished with him they started attacking workers in the subways and the sewers. The city killed a bunch of them off, but they're supposed to still be around." There was a pause, and then a retching sound. "...You okay?"

"No, dude! I've _been _in those subway tunnels, remember? How could you tell me that while we're down here?!"

"You asked what a Gotham Gray was!"

"Yeah, but...uuugh..."

"I'm sorry, okay? Just don't throw up, Wals. Seriously, just...just don't. Please."

"Trying not to...don't want to waste all that candy...blech, let's get out of here before I see another rat. I really _will_ puke if one actually touches me."

"Okay. Um..." Dick swung his light around, searching. "...I think there's a way out over here."

"Sounds good to me."

They climbed a set of long, rickety stairs and emerged midway down a corridor. "Left or right?" Wally asked.

The blackness seemed to be a little thinner towards the front of the house, which made Dick's decision easy. "Right," he ruled.

They ducked under the thick layer of cobwebs that stretched across the doorway and found themselves in a formal dining room. A long table and a dozen chairs formed odd-shaped lumps beneath a yellowed dust cloth. With one exception, all of the hutches and sideboards lining the walls were also draped in ancient linens. Dick pointed to the single uncovered tower, barely visible against the far wall. "Let's see what's in there."

"…Dude, why?"

"Because we have a ton of those things at home, and a lot of them have mirrored backs," he explained, tugging the speedster along. "If we stick our lights in there, they'll reflect and make everything brighter."

"Oh! Sweet. Good idea."

As they drew up to the gilded curio cabinet, however, it became clear that Dick's plan wouldn't work. Time had dulled the polish off of the glass panels, leaving them spotted and streaked. Both boys held their glow sticks up hopefully, just in case, but the improvement to the room's atmosphere was minimal. "Well, so much for that," Dick sighed. Turning to face the table again, he found himself staring into blackness and shivered.

"It was still really smart, though." Wally clapped him on the back, trying to buck him up. "Let's check out another room, huh? Maybe we'll find something better."

The only way out that didn't involve backtracking led them into a wide foyer. Grubby windows flanked the solid front door, but they had been boarded up from the outside and let in no relief from the dusk. A staircase rose up and out of sight on their left; dead ahead, a pair of heavy-looking wood panels suggested the presence of another chamber. "…Do you want to go straight?" Dick inquired. "Or should we try upstairs?"

"Uh…let's go straight."

It took both of them pulling with all of their might to get one of the doors moving. Once they'd wrenched it loose it slid easily for a few feet, then came to a jarring stop. Caught off guard by the sudden halt in their momentum, Dick tumbled backwards onto the floor with an ignoble _thunk_. "Ow!"

"Bro, are you okay?!" Wally had moved fast enough to keep his footing, but he quickly kneeled beside his fallen compatriot. "That sounded like it hurt."

"Just my pride," he half-joked as he sat up. "…Eww. Now my costume's all dirty," he complained, looking over his shoulder at the grayish smears that had appeared on his clothes. "Help me brush this crud off, would you?"

But the redhead was staring up at the ceiling, apparently transfixed. "…Did you hear that?" he whispered.

"Uh…hear what?"

"I thought…I thought I heard a laugh."

Dick strained his ears for several tense seconds, but the only sound was the distant hum of a car passing by the house. "…Are you sure?"

Wally made a face. "Maybe not. I guess I'm a little bit more freaked out by this place than I thought I would be." He paused. "Do ghosts even laugh?"

"I dunno…" There it was again, a patient little sigh in the back of his head. He was missing something, he was sure of it, but what? "Just help me clean up, okay?" he requested when his quandary didn't unravel itself under his scrutiny. "Batman's not supposed to be all dusty."

Once they'd done the best that they could – his plastic armor brushed off easily, but the cape was beyond the help of anything short of a washing machine – they stepped through the opening they'd made between the doors. "It's a living room," Wally announced as a pair of couches loomed into view. "…Dang, how old is this house? There's not even a TV in here, I don't think!"

"Maybe they took it with them," Dick suggested distantly. Despite the fact that a couple of broken shutter slats were letting in a faint glow from the front yard, this space wasn't noticeably brighter than any of the others they had traversed. The persistent darkness was beginning to make him sweat, and it seemed to him that the protection of the cowl had lessened since the little fall he'd taken in the entryway. "Um…are you done in here?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess. Why?"

"It's just…" He hugged himself. "…Dark."

"Oh! Oh, sure. Okay, let's…hey, let's go upstairs! I just remembered that I saw one of the shutters hanging off as we were walking up. I bet there's plenty of light up there."

"Sure," he nodded, gulping and trying to keep his voice steady. If he could just channel Robin the way Bruce had told him to when he was out of costume and afraid of the night, he thought, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. The only problem was that he didn't dare let himself sink too far into mask-mode, not when there were five bullies outside begging to have their butts kicked. He would have to be strong without calling on his alter ego's help. "That...that sounds good."

They had just reached the second floor and were considering which of the several doors they should try when a loud _creeeak_ filled the air. "...Dude, what was that?" Wally whispered in terror.

"I dunno," Dick shook his head. If only he could _see_… "Maybe…maybe it was just the wind," he suggested when the noise didn't repeat itself. "Or…or maybe the building was settling. That happens at home sometimes."

"Yeah," Wally accepted even as his eyes remained wide. "Yeah, our…our house does that too. That must have been it."

Warming up to the idea of there being a perfectly innocent reason for what they'd just heard, Dick went on. "Maybe-"

_Creeeak_. _Creeeak. Creeeeeeak…_

"Gaah!" they both half-screamed.

"What time is it?!" the speedster begged. "Those sounded like footsteps, creepy, ghosty footsteps. Oh, man, bro, let's just go, okay? It's got to be time, so let's just get out of here."

Dick wasn't pleased to see that the wrist on which he wore his watch was shaking. Reading the hour, he felt a pitiful whine grow in his throat. "We can't go," he reported numbly. "We've…we've only been in here for twenty-five minutes." His fear was closing in faster than ever, and he wasn't even halfway through the required hour. He couldn't do it, he couldn't last like this, but he had to, he _had_ to... "We…we have to stay."

"What! Oh, _no…"_

They huddled together at the top of the stairs for a long moment. "What…what do you want to do, Wals?" Dick asked shakily when nothing appeared to harass them. "We can't leave, but…" _But I'm really afraid of the dark right now, _he bit back, embarrassed.

"But it's hard to see?"

"Um…yeah."

"Well, do…do you want to try one of these rooms?" Wally gestured to the two nearest doors. "I think the…the footsteps…came from way in the back. Maybe these rooms are okay, and we can find some light. There's that broken shutter I saw, remember?"

There weren't any other options that Dick could see short of getting beat up, so he nodded. "Do you remember which side it was on?"

"Ah…hold on, I've got to turn the picture around in my head…" After a moment he pointed to the handle of the room on the left. "That one. It's gotta be that one."

"Okay." Despite the fact that he desperately wanted to find the promised window, Dick hesitated. "…I wish I had Superman's x-ray vision after that creaking."

"You too, huh? Except…could he see them with that? A…well, a you-know-what?"

"Dunno." Part of him wanted to make a note to ask the Kryptonian the next time he saw him, but the voice in his head was sighing in disappointment again. _What am I missing?_ He puzzled hard; he _had_ to figure it out. _What am I trying to tell myself?_ _What __is__it?! _"…Let's go," he gave in once more when no answer came. "It's dark in here."

Squinting his eyes in case what he was about to find turned out to be unpleasant, Dick turned the knob and flung the door open. "Yes!" he cheered as he easily made out the pattern of the paper across the room. "You were right, bro! This is the one with the broken shutter!" His confidence came flooding back once he could see what was around him again. Creeping to the window, he peeked outside to check on their sentinels. "...Aw, dude, those guys totally ran away! I bet they took all of our candy, too. What total jerks..."

"Uh...uh-huh..."

He frowned. The light should have made them _both_ feel more like their usual selves, not just him, so why didn't Wally sound outraged about their lost treats? "...Bro? What's wrong?" he asked, turning.

"Th...th-_that's_ wrong," the speedster stuttered, extending an arm to point at the bed. "That's...you don't think...was somebody...?"

As Dick stared at the long-dried blood stains that trailed from the sheets to the floor, the wheels of logic began to turn in his mind. "...Hey, Wally?" he breathed slowly.

"Y-yeah?"

"There are no such things as ghosts."

He spoke with a quiet certainty that made the redhead stop staring frantically into every corner and look at him instead. "What...how can you be so sure? I thought we decided it was technically possible? And the...the footsteps, and the-"

"Wally," he repeated, his voice taking on a sad note as the truth of his realization sank in. "Ghosts...ghosts don't exist."

"But bro...how do you know?"

"I..." He tore his eyes away from the brown-splattered bed, afraid that it might disappear and leave him with a vision of the similarly discolored dirt he had once seen beneath the big top. "Ghosts are supposed to be people who died violently, right? Or who had unfinished business, that kind of stuff?"

"Yeeeah...? So what?!"

"So...I've never seen a ghost. If they existed, though, don't...don't you think I would have? Or that Bruce would have?" He had to bite his lip to keep it from trembling. "If someone who was murdered and had unfinished business _could_ come back as a ghost, don't you think...don't you think at least one of us would have seen our parents by now?"

Wally's jaw dropped. "...Oh, _snap,_ bro," he breathed. "I...I didn't even think about that." He shook himself, his fear draining from his face. "Um...crap...are you-?"

"I'm okay," Dick promised. "It's just...how it is, that's all. I don't know if someone died in this room or not," he shrugged, "but if they did, I'm pretty sure they're not hanging around as a ghost."

"So...I got us all worked up for nothing, then." Wally blushed. "I feel stupid."

"Don't. You were right; science doesn't have an answer for every question, and sometimes things that everyone thinks were...well, hogwash," he said, smiling slightly at the word, "turn out not to be once we learn more. But ghosts..." He pulled his cape around himself, wishing as he did that the _real_ Batman was here to give him an understanding squeeze on the shoulder. "...I think we can cross ghosts off the list."

"Yeah...but hey, at least we were right to think Brent and his friends were dumb before!"

He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could get the first syllable out a grown man's deep, tobacco-thickened voice spoke from the doorway. "Right you were, boys. Right you were, indeed."

"Oh, no," Dick moaned as Wally scampered to his side. "...We're busted."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: We'll find out who the mystery man is on Friday. In the meantime, Aunt Iris' pumpkin-chocolate chip cookie recipe is finally up on my blog (accessible via my profile page) in case anyone wants to try it out. Happy reading!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

_Bruce is going to be so mad, _Dick winced._ And Alfred...I promised Alfred I'd be good! _The butler's parting comment about getting carried away suddenly made all too much sense. Guilt flooded him, followed by a faint ray of hope. If he explained to this man why they'd come in, maybe he would understand and not call their families or the police. Everyone always said you were supposed to tell an adult if you were being bullied; well, here was an adult.

Before he could formulate his apologetic excuses, though, a more sinister thought leached into his brain. Here was an adult, yes, but _why_? The state of the front of the building had made it clear that no one was living here, so where had he come from? They were standing, he gulped, in a blood-splattered room on the upper floor of an abandoned house they weren't supposed to have gone near. If this guy was a psycho or a slaver no one would even know they were missing for another half an hour, and even then Barry would probably give them an extra fifteen minutes before he started to really worry. They could be killed or put on a truck bound for who-knew-where many times over in three-quarters of an hour.

"Who...who are you?" he asked. The fellow wasn't carrying any weapons that he could see, but he was built like Bruce, and muscles like the billionaire's were weapons in and of themselves. Rumpled clothing, slightly off-kilter eyes, and a remarkably creepy smile finished the picture, leaving Dick even more disconcerted. He knew that he shouldn't assume the new arrival was a serial killer or a sexual maniac just because he kind of looked like one, but it was difficult to assume that he was innocent of all crimes given the strange circumstances they'd found themselves in.

"I think _I_ should be asking _you_ that, don't you?"

A disappointed look and a lecture were beginning to look pretty good in comparison to spending another thirty seconds in the same room with this man. Glancing sideways without turning his head, Dick examined the space outside the window. They would have to go through the glass in order to get out – there wouldn't be time to open it, not when the danger was standing so close to them – but there was a porch roof just below the sill that they could run across and use to leap down to the lawn. Even if they were followed, once they were outside their cries for help would be audible to the surrounding homes. His plan set, he nudged Wally. _Three…two…_

"Hey, now, boys, don't get freaked out." The figure blocking the doorway took a step backwards and raised his hands placatingly. His pedo-smile slackened into a gently jesting grin. "I wouldn't want to do anything that landed me in a tangle with Batman and Flash, you know?"

"_What_?!" Wally burst out, his eyes widening in horror.

For an instant Dick, too, thought that their identities had been compromised. Then he remembered that they were dressed like their mentors, and realized that the comment had been a joke about their costumes, not a threat of unmasking. "He means us, bro," he hissed. "Our clothes?"

"...Oh. Is_...is_ that what you meant, mister?"

"Of course. What else would I have meant?"

"Uh..."

Dick filled in the gap for his friend. "We really,_ really_ like Batman and Flash," he offered. "We kind of thought...well, when you said that, we thought maybe you knew them, or they were here, or something."

"Yeah," Wally latched on to the story. "That would have been awesome."

It was a weak lie, but their obvious youth made it believable. Buying it, the man chuckled. "Agreed. I'm a pretty big fan of theirs myself."

"You...you are?" He frowned. There were plenty of grown-ups who thought superheroes were cool, he knew, so there was every chance in the world that this guy was telling the truth. At the same time, though, he might just be using the information they'd provided to form a connection and lull them into a false sense of security.

"I am. But we're getting a little off topic here." The man shifted and shoved his hands in his pockets. "So...what exactly are you doing in my house? Shouldn't you be out collecting enough candy to put yourselves into sugar comas?"

"We were!" Wally insisted. "Then these jerks from my school found us. They said that if we didn't come in here for an hour and give us half our candy they'd beat the crap out of us!"

"We didn't even know this place existed until they told us we had to go inside of it," Dick pitched in. "I know there's no one outside now, so it probably looks like we're making it up, but…honest, mister, we wouldn't have come anywhere near your house if they hadn't made us."

"And I'll bet you _really_ wouldn't have come near if you'd known an adult was watching from next door and just waiting for someone to brave the creepy old haunted house on Halloween, huh?"

"Uh...no. We really didn't want any trouble, we just...got bullied." For the briefest of moments he loathed his civilian weakness. Robin could have just flattened his tormentors if they insisted on getting physical; Dick Grayson could not. All he could do was try and talk his way out of things or, as he had done tonight, go along with rule-breaking in order to keep from being hurt. His run-in with Ricky Van Cleave a year before notwithstanding, he was likely to lose no matter which way he turned in situations like the one that had led him here tonight.

"Well, I've had my fair share of experience with those. And your story checks out, by the way."

"…It does?" He perked up. "You saw them?!"

"Where did they go?!" Wally pressed. "They took all of our candy!"

"No, they didn't. They dropped it on the lawn when I got rid of them."

"Wait…'got rid of them'?" The redhead's freckles stood out in stark relief against his fear-paled skin. "H-how?"

"With this." Before either of them could react, the man reached down and retrieved an axe from just out of sight. A thick rill of fresh-looking crimson glimmered along the edge of the blade. "Pretty scary, huh?"

Dick had already dragged the gaping Wally to the window and was about to throw his elbow through the glass when a fresh cry made him stop. "It's fake!" their host called. "Totally fake, I swear! Look." Grasping the head of the tool, he bent it almost in half. "…Seriously, don't break the window. It's hard to find weathered glass that fits these old frames, and you wouldn't believe how expensive it is."

"What…who _are_ you?!" Dick sputtered. Living right next door, purposefully replacing broken windows with equally aged ones, surprising people while wielding a realistic-looking rubber axe…it was starting to sound like this guy _wanted_ people to get the living daylights scared out of them. "Did…do you keep this place like this on _purpose_?"

"…You boys," he smiled, setting his prop back down, "are very clever. And very brave." A beat passed as he observed them and they stared back, still prepared to run at the first sign of a real threat. "My name's Dan," he introduced himself finally. "You don't need to tell me your names. I respect 'stranger danger' and all that other stuff they teach you in school."

"I think we're kind of already screwed on that point, though, aren't we?" Wally managed.

"Heh. Well, you would be if I was a bad person. Then again," Dan shrugged, "maybe not. You went for that window fast; I'm impressed. To answer your question, though, yes, I do keep this place looking shabby on purpose. It's all perfectly safe – you won't fall through the floors or have the ceiling come down on your head, I promise – but it _is_ old, and the dust and the spiders and the rats are very real."

"I was okay _not_ knowing that part about the rats," the speedster groaned.

_Rats_…Dick almost gasped aloud. He had talked about the Gotham Grays when they were down in the cellar, had mentioned files and Batman and…and a bit too much, really, to be written off as mere fanboy blabber by anyone who might have overheard. "So…how long did you follow us?" he asked carefully.

"Just up the stairs. I saw you all come up from the street, and I kind of figured you two were being forced inside. I've got cameras all over this place – hidden, of course, or someone would try to make off with them – that I can see through from my house. Usually I just watch from there, since people don't tend to make it in very far before they get freaked out and leave. The few who do, though, tend to be older versions of the boys who bullied you tonight; cocky, macho, looking to cause some trouble. They're a problem, because their first instinct is to cause damage. I've found graffiti on the walls, busted-up bottles all over the floor, you name it. I even caught a couple of lovebirds trying to build a fire in the back bedroom once." He scoffed dismissively. "Some of the teenagers in this town are _not_ very civic-minded."

Leaving the axe in the doorway, Dan stepped into the room and moved towards the bed. Shoving the bloodied sheets to one side, he sat down on the mattress. "Anyway-"

"Ugh! Dude, that's so gross!" Wally interrupted.

"It's fake, Wals," Dick told him. "…Isn't it? This whole place…it's fake."

"Right," Dan nodded. "Good job."

"So…no one died in here?" Wally verified.

"Not that I know of, no." The redhead slumped in relief. "Like I was saying, though, after I caught the kids trying to build a fire I decided I had to do something. I'd bought this place to make movies in – that's what I do, is direct horror films – and I didn't want to see my investment go up in flames because a couple of jocks thought it would be cool to play at being pyromaniacs. I already had a few cameras installed for easier overhead shots of scenes, but they weren't set up to feed to my computer 24/7 and they weren't infrared. I fixed things so that I could see intruders without turning on lights, put in a few extra touches," – he smirked, indicating the stained bedclothes – "and voila! Instant haunted house. Then a few years ago I added some motion detectors and a couple of sounds clips, just to up the ante."

"The footsteps!" Dick identified.

"And the laugh I heard downstairs!" Wally added. "Good, I thought I was going crazy when you didn't hear it too."

Dan frowned. "Was it really quiet?"

"Yeah."

"Damn. I've been having problems with that speaker for six months. Guess I'm going to have to buy a new one. Since I did that stuff, though, people's fears have worked their magic and kept things pretty quiet. A couple of times I've had to grab the old battle-axe there and do a little personal scaring when the props don't seem to be working, but I don't mind. The police know what I use this place for – I didn't want them to waste their time trying to investigate a fake murder if somebody decided to report what they saw in here – and while they've told me they'd rather I called them when someone breaks in, I prefer to do it this way. Especially," he winked, "when my trespassers are a bit too young to spend the night in jail."

"So you're not going to tell on us?" Dick queried. _Please say no, please say no, please say no…_

"I don't think that's necessary. You were bullied into coming in here, you made it further than most people do without running out screaming, and you didn't break my window when I asked you not to; in my opinion this has been a tour of a movie set, not a home invasion. Sound good to you guys?"

Their identities hadn't been compromised, Dan wasn't an axe-murderer, and if they left soon they might even have time to knock on a couple more doors before they had to meet Barry; so far as Dick was concerned, things were more than good. "Sounds great," he nodded. "…Thanks, Dan."

"Yeah," Wally agreed. "Totally. Thanks!"

"No problem. But I have to ask – and be honest with me, I can take it – what did you think of the house?"

The boys exchanged a look, then grinned. Now that they could see and knew that neither ghosts nor killers were haunting the halls, the frights they had gotten in the course of their adventure seemed more delightful than scary. "Awesome," they said together.

Dan beamed. "Good."

A minute later he was leading them back to the first floor with his axe over his shoulder and a small flashlight in his hand. "You'll have to check out some of my movies," he said as they descended. "Try 'Silk City Slashers', if you don't mind blood and if your parents will let you watch something PG-13. You'll recognize a lot of shots from inside this place." He paused in the foyer. "…Pretty co-ed dies right here. Thirty-two minutes, eighteen seconds in. She did a good job, that girl. _Great_ screamer. The neighbors even complained."

"Uh…neat?" Wally said uncertainly.

"Yeeeeah…on second thought, that one might actually be a little too mature for you boys," Dan amended his suggestion. "Well, check it out in a few years, maybe. You'll have fun reminiscing. Here, let's go through the back door; I don't fit through that gap in the cellar cover as easy as kids do."

They circled around the staircase to a door that neither Dick nor Wally had noticed earlier. After passing through an antique kitchen that was just as derelict-looking as everything else in the house, they stepped out onto the weedy rear lawn. "Ah, craaap," Wally moaned. "They dumped everything out!"

The wrappers scattered across the grass bore out his complaint. "That was my fault," Dan said. "I think I gave them a nasty scare. They sure took off like they were in a panic after I acted like I was going to get them, at least."

"I don't blame them." Dick giggled as an image of Brent screaming in terror floated into his mind. "I'd be pretty freaked out if a guy with a big, bloody axe came out of nowhere and ran towards me, too."

"Yeah, how'd you do that anyway?" Wally asked. "The axe, I mean. It's really believable."

"I'm in the movie biz, kid, and on the low-budget side at that. Making your own props and making them look good is par for the course. But seeing as how you asked, I'll tell you a little secret; it's modeling paint."

"Like for airplanes and cars and stuff?"

"Right. Or in my case, for action figures." Dan shrugged sheepishly. "I wasn't kidding when I said I like superheroes. Now if I could just find someone to give me a superhero movie budget for some of my projects…" He sighed longingly. "Ah, it'll never happen. No one appreciates real horror anymore. C'mon, I'll help you find your candy in the grass. You'll be here all night if you try and pick it up with nothing but glow sticks."

A short while later the trio had said their goodbyes and Dick and Wally were making their way back towards where they'd been dropped off. "He wasn't so bad," the speedster opined. "Can you imagine having a whole extra house like that just to make movies in and scare people with? How cool would that be?"

"Pretty cool," Dick agreed. "Although…"

"What?"

"Well…" Dan had said that the gang took off when they saw him coming with an axe; if that was true, what did they think must have happened to their classmate after they'd left? "…Brent and his friends are going to be totally freaked out when they see you at school on Monday, don't you think?"

Wally stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, an evil grin spreading across his face. "Bro…Monday is gonna be _epic_! I bet they'll never bother me again if they think I survived a crazy axe-murderer! Oh, man…I just wish you were going to be here to see their faces, too. That is literally the only way this Halloween could get any more perfect."

Dick didn't answer for a moment as he reviewed the events of the evening. In the last three hours he had gotten to dress up like his mentor, trick-or-treat without any interference from the press, and explore a cool-but-creepy old house with his best friend. It was all but guaranteed that they would spend the rest of the night sitting in front of some Halloween movie marathon on TV and gorging on sugar until they passed out. In the morning he would go home, and maybe, just maybe, Bruce would be there waiting for him. With all of that in mind he hefted his candy bucket, which was still heavy despite the tax Brent's goons had taken, and smiled. "You know what, bro? As cool as it would be to see that, nothing in the world could make this Halloween more perfect than it already is."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I hope you've enjoyed Dick and Wally's little adventure. There will be a small epilogue tomorrow. Happy reading!<strong>


	4. Epilogue

**Author's Note: Sorry about the delay on this last little bit. I was busy all weekend preparing for and then throwing my husband a birthday party, so I had zero time to write. There's a new chapter of 'Silent Treatment' up as well, for those of you following that. Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>Dick yawned as he stepped out of the Zeta tube and into the cave the next morning.<p>

"Still a bit tired from last night's quest for candy, young sir?" Alfred asked beside him.

"Yeah..." Deeming it best if the butler didn't know that he and Wally hadn't fallen asleep until almost 3 AM, that was all he said.

"A sugar high and an evening of thrills will do that to a person. If you'd like, I'll put away your candy and your costume so that you can go and take a nap. It's not yet too late in the day for that. Besides," a secretive smile came across the Englishman's face, "I think you'll find a surprise awaiting you upstairs."

Dick's heart leaped. "Is it Bruce?!" he queried excitedly. "Did he come home last night? Is he asleep in his room?!"

Alfred gave a pleased little hum. "You'll just have to go and see for yourself, Master Dick."

"Okay!" He made to hand over his candy bucket, then hesitated. "...If I give this to you, am I ever going to see it again? Not that I think you'd _steal_ it or anything," he added quickly as one silvery eyebrow rose, "but...well, I know how you feel about processed foods, that's all."

"I may force you to ration your remaining treats out over the next several weeks, young sir, but I would never dispose of them purely on principle. I know you put a great deal of work into collecting them."

Relieved, he passed over the bucket and his backpack. "Thanks, Alfred!" he grinned, then prepared to bolt up the stairs to the house.

"One more thing, Master Dick," the butler called him back.

He stopped. "Huh?"

"Far be it from me to advise you to lie, but let's keep the fact that you and Mister West were out and about by yourselves last night between us, hmm? It will only distress Master Wayne if he knows, and there's no point in that."

Dick's jaw dropped. "...How did _you_ know?" he whispered. "We didn't say anything, and you didn't even ask when you picked me up!"

Alfred's lips twitched with amusement. "To be honest, I didn't know until you verified it for me just now. I merely had a strong suspicion that boys of your age and daring would win the day were Flash to be called away on some emergency. It seems that he was, then?"

"A hostage situation," Dick nodded.

"Ah. Yes, that would require his immediate attention. And I trust that you didn't involve yourselves in anything _too_ risky in his absence, since you are standing whole before me?"

"Well..." Things could have been extremely risky had Dan turned out to be a murderer instead of just a movie maker, he reflected. "We had an adventure," he said carefully. "But we didn't get hurt, and we were never in much _real_ danger."

"Hmm..." Alfred considered him for a long moment. Dick thought he might be in trouble until he caught sight of the same twinkle that had been in the butler's gaze the previous evening. "...I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell me the whole story when I pick you up from school on Monday afternoon, would you?"

Now Dick was boggling. "You...you _want_ to know the details?"

"I confess that I do. My interest stems partially from my desire to ensure your safety, of course, but I'll tell you a secret." He leaned down a little, imbuing his next words with a conspiratorial air. "For all that it was not a part of my own upbringing, I've always thought the American way of celebrating All Hallows is rather brilliant. I'm far too old to participate myself, of course, but that doesn't mean that I can't live a bit of the fun vicariously, hmm? And don't worry; since you came home safe, I'll grant you full amnesty for any minor rule-breaking you might have done."

Delighted by the concept of sharing his night with Alfred and not getting in trouble for it, Dick beamed. "Okay," he agreed. "Monday after school I'll tell you all about it."

"Thank you, young sir. I look forward to it immensely."

"So...you still don't want me to tell Bruce, right?"

"No. If you can avoid it, I think it's best that he doesn't know that Mister Allen disregarded the one stricture that was set down for the evening, even if he did do so under duress. I've enjoyed seeing Master Wayne make a new friend over this past year; I wouldn't want to foul it up, even temporarily."

"Me, either. So...our little secret?"

"Our little secret indeed, Master Dick." The butler sent him a tolerant smile, then waved him towards the stairs. "Go on, now. I daresay he won't let himself fall into the deep sleep he needs until he knows you're home. I'll wake you both in a few hours."

"Okay. And Alfred?"

"Hmm?"

"...Thanks for being so awesome."

A small chuckle sounded. "You're quite welcome, dear boy. Happy Halloween."


End file.
